


Two of a Kind

by Herk



Series: The Life of Mycroft Holmes [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Complete, Gen, friendship?, well at least something not completely hostile or indifferent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-27 14:37:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 7,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10026101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herk/pseuds/Herk
Summary: Unlike Sherlock, Mycroft knew exactly who and what 'Mary' was pretty much right from the start





	1. Getting on Mycroft's radar

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters will be relatively short but as always I'm finished writing so expect regular updates.

While Sherlock was officially dead, Mycroft naturally kept an eye on his brother’s “friends“. As strange as the concept was to himself, he understood that John Watson, Mrs. Hudson, DI Lestrade, and Molly Hooper were important to Sherlock. And it simply wouldn’t do for his brother to return from the dead to find something bad had happened to someone he cared about.

 

It was a minor addition to his schedule. Four more or less reasonable people with ordinary lives weren’t all that difficult to keep track of. Especially since he could delegate; there was no reason to get involved directly and several to stay in the background.

 

He was worried for John for a while. The man had been closer to Sherlock than anyone, some might even say unhealthily so. But John stayed out of trouble, went to see his therapist and slowly but surely worked his way out of the hole of depression he fell into after Sherlock’s “jump“. And when he started dating again, Mycroft knew that John would be fine in the long run.

 

It took a while until he realised from the reports that Mary Morstan was more than just one of John’s casual acquaintances, another one in his long lists of girlfriends that ultimately all went away without much consequences. Mary, he realised, was here to stay.

 

That’s when Mycroft decided to take an interest in her as well. He couldn’t have Sherlock come back to a best friend who was dating someone potentially bad for his little brother.

 

Looking at the snapshot of Mary and John sitting in a cafe laughing, something about her stirred Mycroft’s memory. He had seen this woman before. And he doubted it was in an insignificant-ran-into-her-on-the-streets kind of way. Mycroft closed his eyes and sank into his mind palace – a handy little memory trick he had taught Sherlock when they were children. And without his brother’s flair for the dramatic it was a rather fast way to remember.

 

When he opened his eyes again after a moment of quiet contemplation, Mycroft called over his PA.

 

“Please get me the files on A.G.R.A..”


	2. Introductions

After studying Mary Morstan’s schedule, Mycroft chose a moment to confront her where he was in no danger of running into John Watson. It simply wouldn’t do to have the man know about his ongoing surveillance. Besides John still blamed him for Sherlock’s death and any meeting would therefore be extremely unpleasant.

Mary was surprised when a discreet man in a suit, carrying a hidden gun walked up to her at her favourite little bistro, telling her a gentleman would like to have a few words with her. Looking at the table in the back where the obvious bodyguard was pointing she saw another man. A three-piece suit, hand-tailored, a brolly at his side, receding hairline, somewhere in his forties, he wasn’t a physical danger – that’s what the bodyguard was for – but he emanated power in a way she recognised. There was no reason a simple nurse should attract the attention of someone like this. Mary silently cursed. She had really hoped her new life would last longer than this.

There was no use in causing a scene. She walked over, following his silent invitation to sit down.

“I wonder which letter of AGRA stands for ‘Mary’.” His tone made it perfectly clear that he knew exactly which of the letters meant whom. His smile was absolutely fake.

If he had hoped to startle a reaction out of her, he was mistaken. Mary recognised a dangerous man when she met him but she was far from a harmless little lamb herself.

“Do I know you?”

“Hardly. I always had my doubts about the use of freelancers although I do admit AGRA were among the best. After the incident in Georgia I managed to convince my peers not to rely on outside sources anymore. But I was naturally aware of you. And the fact that all four of you were assumed dead after that debacle at the embassy.”

“And now you will rectify the discrepancies between the paperwork and reality?” Mary knew that she had no chance if the man in front of her wanted her dead. He wouldn’t expose himself like this if he wasn’t absolutely sure about it. People like him never took risks.

“Well that depends. Mary Morstan is a nurse as far as I understand it. A very laudable occupation dedicated to helping your fellow human beings, saving lives, easing the suffering, marrying doctors – that kind of thing.”

She grew pale. “You leave John out of this. He has no idea who or what I was before I met him. He has nothing to do with this.”

Mycroft was relieved to hear the vehemence in her voice and to see it mirrored in her body language. As far as he could tell her reactions were genuine. She cared about John Watson and had no nefarious motives; he was willing to bet John’s life on that. She hadn’t yet figured out that this was indeed ALL about John Watson, that her secret would have been safe if she hadn’t started dating the good doctor coincidentally bringing her to Mycroft’s attention.

“Why did you come to London, ‘Mary’?” His voice was cool and professional.

“After Georgia? AGRA is dead. The only thing I wanted was to start over, build a life for myself. There are few places better suited for that than London.”

“Very well.” Mycroft suddenly stood up, ready to leave. “I leave you to it then. Just remember that you are being watched so don’t do anything stupid.”

Mary blinked. This was a very anticlimactic ending for a meeting that had started rather ominously.

“That’s it?”

A small smile played around his lips. He genuinely enjoyed catching other people off balance especially if they displayed a modicum of intellect. “A good day, Miss Morstan, and I trust you will give me no reason to meet with you again.”


	3. Unavoidable REAL Introductions

Mary loved John dearly. And she could tell that in the long run her fiancé wouldn’t be happy as long as he didn’t make up with Sherlock. It would take some time of course. Letting his best friend believe he was dead for two years wasn’t something that could be forgiven in a blink. But in the end John would forgive Sherlock, she was sure of it. And since she loved John and actually liked Sherlock from the little she had seen, she would do her best to help those two along. So when John was working and she had a day off she decided to drop by Baker Street and maybe leave a hint or two for the resident genius on how to deal with normal people emotions.

 

The landlady wasn’t there but Sherlock let her in by buzzer without even waiting for her to say something. Going up the stairs she could hear the detective’s annoyed voice.

 

“Now would you please be so kind as to leave, I’ve got a client coming up.”

 

Whoever was visiting Sherlock had him hugely irritated. His voice made it more than clear that the ‘please’ was in no way meant politely.

 

She entered the flat with an amused smile to find herself nearly running into the other visitor whom Sherlock was basically shoving out of the door. A visitor Mary recognised with shock.

 

“My brother was JUST about to leave, Mary. Now piss off, Mycroft. I’ll call you when something comes up.”

 

Her eyes met that of the man in the three-piece suit who held onto his umbrella as Sherlock not so gently pushed him out of the flat. Mycroft’s eyes showed no real surprise, more like an expression of mild annoyance at running into her, the situation as a whole, and his brother naturally.

 

When Sherlock’s focus turned from his brother to Mary, she had herself under control enough not to give herself away.

 

“You have a brother?” She asked with vague amusement, covering the angry curiosity she actually felt.

 

“I have an annoying twat who interferes far too much in my life. But he has his uses. We mentioned him on that first evening, don’t you remember?”

 

“Ah yes - Mycroft who knew that you were alive. I’m not sure the word ‘brother’ was used though.”

 

“Anyway, what brought you here?”


	4. "So your name is Mycroft..."

Two days after the unfortunate run-in at Baker Street, Mycroft Holmes received a text.

 

“We should talk - MM”

 

The British Government sighed. No amount of planning could have avoided the run-in but he still hated to clean up the loose ends from such accidents.

 

Given Mary’s gender meeting her at the club was out of the question and he really didn’t feel comfortable giving her the address of his official office. So he sent her the name of the bistro where they first met as well as a date and time.

 

“I’ll be there - MM”

*

 

“Hello, Mary.”

 

A smile played around her mouth. “Hello, Mycroft.”

 

“Well, I usually prefer to properly introduce myself but I guess Sherlock made that superfluous.”

 

“I guess he has no manners whatsoever.”

 

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. ‘Mary’ seemed more amused than anything by the whole situation. That was not something he could let slide.

 

“While I agree with that assessment I can’t shake the feeling that you don’t terribly mind.”

 

“I LIKE your brother. I really hope Sherlock and John will work out their differences soon.”

 

“Oh, they will. John was lost when it came to Sherlock about twenty minutes after first meeting him. I once entertained the hope that your fiancé would have a good influence on my wayward brother but I’m not so sure anymore. John falling for you tips the scale slightly towards ‘he’s a lost cause as well’ though.”

 

“You think John…”

 

”Sees something in you. He doesn’t KNOW of course but even normal people pick up subconscious hints. And John has good instincts in that regard.”

 

Mary really didn’t want to think about that. “I noticed that you didn’t bring an armed goon today.”

 

“I don’t think that that’s quite necessary. I’m rather sure that you won’t attack the brother of a person you ‘like’ and endanger your current life. And I’m hopeful you won’t forget who exactly you’re dealing with just because you don’t have a man with broad shoulders and a firearm looming over your shoulder.” His words had the desired effect. Mary actually sobered.

 

“I talked to John - he thinks you have a ‘bloody power complex’ and doesn’t exactly take you seriously.”

 

“In some regards John Watson is quite foolish.”

 

All humour was gone from Mary’s face now. “He lacks the experience of dealing with men who truly have no conscience.”

 

“While you on the other hand have more than enough experience in that regard. So I trust you won’t underestimate me.”

 

Mary’s eyes narrowed. She contemplated her next words carefully. It was a shot in the dark but she’d alway been a risk taker. “I won’t - but I won’t overestimate your dangerousness either.”

 

Mycroft blinked in surprise. “I’m not entirely sure that that’s possible, my dear.”

 

“You didn’t find me because you’re omniscient; you stumbled upon me while you were looking out for John. He might not have known it but the last two years you held a protective hand above him. And I bet you watched over Greg and Mrs. Hudson as well. You aren’t just a cold blooded monster, Mycroft. There’s too much of a Guardian Angel in you.”

 

“While I won’t dispute that I kept an eye out for John, I wouldn’t put too much on it though. I can’t say that I feel any sentimental attachments towards any of them.”

 

Mary wasn’t sure how much she believed that. That was the problem with Mycroft she decided - you couldn’t tell whether he was lying to appear more detached than he was or if he actually didn’t give a damn. A part of her felt it might be fun to find out. “Well, you care about Sherlock at least, so there is a heart in there somewhere.”

 

Mycroft’s gaze was ice cold as he answered. “Which in no way implies that I give even a iota about  _ your  _ personal well-being.”

 

Mary swallowed. “I know that. But I LIKE your brother and I think he likes me. Also I’m the best ally Sherlock has to reconcile with John. Our interests in this align even if my main motivation is John’s well-being and yours is Sherlock’s.”

 

Mycroft smiled. It had some distinct shark-like quality about it. “That’s true and your background might come in handy, either because you use it to assist the Baker Street Boys or because I can use it as a leash to stop you from doing something stupid.”

 

Mary’s answering smile was a tad forced. “So you won’t tell John? Or Sherlock?”

 

“Not without good reason, my dear Mary. You are an incredibly powerful resource and I’d hate seeing that go to waste. “

 

She nodded. After talking to Mycroft and getting a bit of a feeling for the man, she was prone to think that he was neither the foolish twat with a power complex that John saw in him, nor the absolutely dangerous man of power without any empathy that she had feared him to be at first. The truth as always lay somewhere in-between. And she would get closer to the man behind the suit as time went on.

 

Mycroft smiled. Mary was an incredibly clever person and he liked that. More importantly her background meant that she understood his world a lot better than his foolish brother or John ever could. He was sure he could develop a fruitful and amicable relationship with her if nothing unforeseen happened. He wasn’t exactly lonely. But it would be nice to deal with a person who didn’t annoy him to no end by their sheer existence - it happened seldom enough.


	5. Mary gets recruited

Mycroft spent the next months keeping a very watchful eye on the Mary - John - Sherlock situation but as far as he could tell Mary was indeed a positive addition to the Baker Street team. She didn’t exactly discourage reckless behaviour in John or his brother but she didn’t egg them on either. She gave the two men something to do besides chasing criminals that still kept them from getting bored. And when they found themselves in ridiculous situations it was reassuring for Mycroft to know that another person was at Sherlock’s side who could be trusted to watch his back and do so competently.

 

Whenever they met at Baker Street they greeted each other cordially and acted like strangers with common acquaintances. Neither John nor Sherlock had any idea that they were anything besides that.

 

When DI Lestrade took two bullets for him at a conference and the political and diplomatic climate was such that he couldn’t investigate beyond ‘she was a mad lunatic working alone’, Mycroft was rightfully angered. He silently cursed the corset that stopped him from going after the people behind the would be assassin who had tried to kill him with the full extent of the apparatus. But that’s what private contacts and resources were for. It was a pity that Allan was currently busy in Turkey. He contemplated giving the task to his second best man for a quick moment but then had a better idea that wouldn’t even interfere with his other side projects.

 

“Mary, please get into the car.”

 

“Mycroft?”

 

“I saw you walking down the street and thought ‘why not give her a ride?’”

 

Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. She wasn’t naive enough to believe his selflessness for even a moment. “Why thank you, Mycroft.”

 

Once his driver had the car joining traffic and with the separation up, Mycroft’s expression grew serious.

 

“While I wasn’t planning on doing this so quickly, I’m afraid I am in need of your services.”

“What? Mycroft, I’m a nurse. I’m preparing my wedding. I don’t have any interest in letting myself be dragged back to that kind of life.”

“Your interest has little to nothing to do with what will happen next. Someone tried to kill me. Gregory Lestrade is in a hospital. And officially the shooter acted on her own.”

 

Mary’s eyes narrowed as she listened. The explicit mention of Lestrade came unexpected - another little puzzle piece in the picture of Mycroft Holmes. “You have people for this.”

 

“As I said  _ officially  _ she acted on her own.”

 

“And that’s not good enough for you.”

 

“Let’s say I would prefer to avoid another assassination attempt by a lone wolf in the future.”

 

“I’m not the person you want dealing with this.”

 

“You are exactly the person I want to be dealing with this and you will do it.”

 

Mary felt that she had to resist at least pro forma. “Just because you have that leverage I won’t be jumping through every hoop you’ll put in front of me.”

 

Mycroft smiled. “Of course not, my dear. You will however do this for me to escape the boredom of the mundane day-to-day existence of Mary Morstan. You miss the thrill.”

 

Mary kept her serious expression for another moment before breaking into a guilty grin. “OK, you’ve got me there.” She held out her hand. “So what do you have for me?”

 

He passed her a USB stick. “I expect to hear from you when you solved this.”

 

“That might take a while.” Just then the car pulled up to the curb. “See you soon, Mycroft.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know what this is referring to check out
> 
>  
> 
> ["The very slow seduction of Mycroft Holmes"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5827264/chapters/13429720)
> 
>  
> 
> (if you haven't yet).


	6. Sherlock's Birthday

They next met each other at Sherlock’s birthday party. With John always at her side, Mary kept up the appearances. Mary Morstan didn’t really know Mycroft from anything but a few run-ins and the things John told her, so she kept up a vaguely amused smile while carefully studying the British Government in a social environment.

After spending more time around Sherlock she had a better idea by now of the workings of a Holmesian mind. And that new perspective - especially the differences between the brothers - gave her a few new insights into Mycroft Holmes..

His manners toward Mrs. Hudson were impeccable. That was of little to no surprise. He obviously acted in full professional diplomacy mode toward the landlady.

More surprising was his ignoring of Molly Hooper. Mary recognized it for the gentle kindness that it was and considering that he had nothing to gain from friendliness here it showed her yet another side of the man.

Most interestingly though was his treatment of Greg Lestrade. She wondered when Holmes had actually learned to trust the inspector, before or after the man had taken two bullets for him? Yet it was undeniable that when the two of them talked there was no tension, no polite mask, no form of uncomfortableness to be seen. Considering that Greg had known the man far longer than John and that he had a pretty good track record when it came to judging character, Mary took this as a good sign.

Later in the evening she managed catch Mycroft alone. She had spent some thought on what she should actually tell him about her findings, what she could get away with with not telling him. Now she decided she would take the risk of telling him everything she’d found.

“On this there’s everything about the people in the background and contacts.” She put a tiny data stick into his hand. “Two of them are in London - do you want me to take care of them?” She kept her tone absolutely neutral. She was curious how he would react to this kind of offer.

“There will be no need for that. Having the names and backgrounds is more than enough. I’m sure we’ll be able to find evidence against them sooner or later and can handle it officially from there.”

Mary raised an eyebrow.

“There’s a reason I never advocated for the use of freelancers, Miss Morstan. I believe in acting within the rules whenever possible.”

“Only not in the same rules as everyone else?”

John coming back stopped Mycroft from answering. His smile seemed more than a bit smug to her though.


	7. Wedding Cake

Mycroft stared at the envelope - an invitation to the wedding of John Hamish Watson and Mary Elizabeth Marston. He personally thought the second name was a nice touch. He wouldn’t have expected to get one of the tastefully gold decorated cards. But in a way John Watson was the eternal optimist. They had had their difficulties but in the end John thought of him as friendly acquaintance it seemed. Friendly enough to justify an invitation to the wedding at least. He studied the card and contemplated what Mary’s real thoughts might be.

 

Weddings of course were dreadful affairs and there would be too many people there who would stare and watch and judge his every move. That was basically his everyday job life and he saw little reason to subject himself to it in what amounted to his freetime.

 

One of the few reasons would be to be at his brother’s side at a crucial moment, ‘Losing’ John like that might trigger something even though it was unlikely. And with Sherlock and Gregory there there would be at least two people whose company he actually enjoyed besides the bride and groom.

 

For once it wasn’t an easy decision what he wanted to do.

 

That is, until Gregory came to his office and changed everything.

 

For the next days and weeks Mycroft buried himself in his work, hiding from anything and anyone that could be considered private in any way. When Sherlock called from the actual festivities he was in control and presented a cool facade. He was prepared; he had anticipated this call after all. Unlike his brother’s visit.

 

After Sherlock had left Mycroft’s doubts still reared their ugly head. He was incapable of normal human interaction, he couldn’t even keep friends. So maybe taking the risk with Gregory wasn’t such a good idea.

 

And then a small package arrived by express delivery.

 

It contained a piece of cake and a small note.

 

“No idea why you couldn’t make it. You would have hated it. Sherlock was the hero of the day once more. But that’s no reason to miss the cake - Enjoy.”

 

Now  _ that  _ was unexpected.

 

Maybe he was capable of upholding a genuine amicable relationship with someone after all - just not with a normal person.

 

Well, the decision how he would proceed with Gregory could wait. There was cake to be taken care of.


	8. Thoughtful Present

“Mary?”

“Yes, John?”

“We got a package. What is a Finnish baby box and who would send us one? I mean no one KNOWS you’re pregnant besides Sherlock and he wouldn’t…”

“Send us something this practical and thoughtful.” Mary beamed. “I heard of these, they are brilliant. And he even chose a very pretty box.”

“He? So you know who this is from?”

“Oh please, John. Isn’t that obvious? There’s even a note saying ‘sorry, for missing the wedding’.”

“OK, I’ll refrain from asking how Mycroft Bloody Holmes knows you’re pregnant and just be grateful for the present I guess.”

Mary leaned in to kiss her husband on the cheek. “A very wise choice, Dear.”


	9. Of COURSE Mycroft finds out

Mycroft liked Mary. She was an intelligent person that had found her own way first of dealing with Sherlock and then himself - something he very much appreciated. He didn’t trust her naturally but he liked her.

 

Which made it all the worse when he found out who had shot his little brother.

 

With almost anyone else he would have found a way to have them meet a very painful, abrupt end without a second thought. But Mary demanded closer consideration. She wouldn’t have shot a person she actually liked without a very good reason.

 

“I wondered when you’d show up.” Mary looked up from her book. With John back at Baker Street, she and Mycroft were alone in the house.

 

“It was only a question of time.” He remained standing, studying the pregnant wife of his brother’s best friend.

 

“It took you longer than I would have expected.”

 

“Ensuring that Sherlock was recuperating was my first priority. And then I wanted to be sure that it was really your doing.”

 

Mary got up. “I need tea. Do you also want a cuppa?”

 

She was a trained assassin among other things. She had just a few days ago shot his brother. She had to know that he currently was a greater danger to her well being than ever before. There were many ways to poison a man.

 

“Yes, please.”

 

Neither of them said anything for the time being, Mary from the terror she wouldn’t allow to show and Mycroft from barely repressed rage. Only when Mary had served them both did Mycroft speak.

 

“Apparently Sherlock thinks you shouldn’t face any consequences for what you did. He never said a word about his attacker, trying his best to shield you from me.”

 

“Only his best wasn’t good enough.”

 

“There aren’t many people for whom my brother would lie, so his unwillingness to give me anything to go on was in itself the strongest hint.”

 

“I called the ambulance.”

 

“I heard the tapes. You sounded detached, almost bored, despite your ability to get the urgency across to the operator.” Mycroft took a sip of the tea and studied the woman. She was a professional so of course she wouldn’t lose her nerves just because she shot someone.

 

"I made as sure as I could that the bullet wouldn’t hit anything vital. I made quite a ruckus to lure John towards Sherlock so he could stabilize him until the ambulance arrived. I did everything in my power to ensure that he would survive.” Mary did her best to keep calm, not only for the impression she would make on Mycroft but also for the baby currently growing inside her, and of course for herself.

 

“I do acknowledge all that, Rosamund. The fact remains though that you shot my little brother. My reckless little brother who seeks out dangerous situations and people, so he probably won’t even hold this against you. You shot at and nearly killed him. I’ve been so far willing to overlook your past and keep it a secret and now it seems that was a grave mistake on my part. You might not have planned to harm him. But you still shot him.”

 

“And you convinced the whole world that he was a fraud for two years. You had everyone believe he was dead so he could go and chase dangerous criminals through Eastern Europe on his own. He could have easily died at any point during that time. Putting someone in danger is sometimes necessary - even hurting them. It’s not the same as killing them.”

 

Mycroft’s eyes widened. His first reaction was to scold her for the audacity to question his choices in regards to Sherlock. But then he actually had to give her credit. She did have a point.

 

Her own decision in a very bad situation - that was at least partly to blame on Sherlock’s choices - had been calculated and rational to achieve her goals at the smallest risk to his brother. In a way the comparison to the Reichenbach fallout was accurate.

 

And like in that situation John Watson’s ire was the immediate punishment.

 

Not that it had mattered to him, but to her it was indeed a high price to pay. He thought of Gregory and could for the first time in his life actually sympathise with the situation Mary was in.

 

He nodded briskly. “Very well then.” He couldn’t actually claim that things were OK between them, that he was ready to forgive her. The fact that he wouldn’t utterly destroy her had to be enough for now. He just stood up, ready to leave. “Thank you for the tea.”

 

“Mycroft?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Will you keep my secret?”

 

“I will hardly go around telling our parents or Gregory that you are an ex master assassin and mercenary who happened to shoot my brother but everything is still OK anyway, so they shouldn’t worry. YOU and John have to decide who you want to tell and when.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Mycroft sighed. What did one other secret mean in the great scheme of things? Maybe John and Mary would use this opportunity he granted them and actually make things work.

 

“You OWE me, Mrs. Watson, and make no mistake I intend to collect at some point.”


	10. Putting Mary to good use

With Sherlock recuperating and John avoiding her, seeking refuge with his best friend back in Baker Street, Mary’s life became terribly empty. She had little to do but her regular work - with reduced hours to avoid running into John - and housekeeping. Hardly enough to keep her mind occupied. In fact her thoughts circled around John and her past and how it had destroyed even a chance of her ever finding happiness.

 

So when Mycroft actually called her, she was almost grateful for the distraction.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“A world in which my brother doesn’t get shot by all sorts of people including his best friend’s wife? A nice long vacation away from everything? People actually acting rationally and in society’s best interest? Since I can have neither of those I would settle for your expert eyes on something.”

 

Mycroft had not so subtly reminded her that she didn’t really have a choice. She owed him. “On what?”

 

“Not over the phone, meet me at the little restaurant on Kingsland Road.”

 

Considering the fact that he had casually alluded to her shooting of Sherlock his secrecy was intriguing. “I’m not sure I would call the ‘Diner’ small but I can be there in about an hour.”

 

It was the first of a rather regular string of meetings. After that first time they met on a more or less biweekly basis. Mycroft asked her opinion or gave her a puzzle to solve trying to see if she could crack a certain code or problem. Sometimes he wanted the problem solved, sometimes he wanted to know if it WAS solvable or if a certain secret was safe.

 

Mary had fun figuring out which one it was with any given puzzle before he actually told her. It was a great distraction - the only real one she had. But she wondered why she found herself in this position.

 

“OK, I gave you my opinion. Just tell me why ‘me’?”

 

Mycroft studied her. “You are intelligent and well versed in these games.”

 

“So is your PA.”

 

“Anthea is a great asset but I want to avoid conflicting loyalties. With Sherlock’s ‘mishap’ I have something to hold over you, so I can be more than reasonably sure you won’t betray any of my secrets or report on me to someone else.”

 

“The puzzle last week you could have easily solved yourself.”

 

A small smile played at the corner of his mouth. “While I appreciate your positive judgement of my abilities, I’m afraid I couldn’t have - or at least not in such a short amount of time. Different people bring different perspectives to a problem. And my own approach while very efficient overall isn’t the ideal tool to attack every issue.”

 

Mary snorted. “Now I know you’re bluffing. There is NO way a Holmes would admit that and be serious about it.”

 

Mycroft sighed. “I can assure you that my admittance to a lack of perfection was quite genuine. But you are right it’s not my only reason for bringing you in on these.”

 

“So what are the others?”

 

“As I said - you owe me and I like to remind you of that, maybe start at least a little to make things up.”

 

“Nothing I’ve done so far could even begin to outweigh what I did.” Mary held no illusions about Sherlock’s place in the ‘Mycroft hierarchy of importance’ versus everything else.

 

“He asked me.”

 

“What?”

 

“Sherlock - he wanted me to ensure that you’d be alright while he keeps an eye on your husband from his sickbed. Apparently my brother has not only fully forgiven you but prepares for the family reunion he hopes for. A fact which I probably shouldn’t have told you about but you did seem a bit down today.”

 

Mary swallowed. “Thank you.”

 

“You were a real asset in the meantime so my time wasn’t fully wasted on attending my brother’s whims.” Mycroft stood up from the table. “I don’t think we’ll see each other before Christmas, so don’t get into trouble.”

 

“Christmas?” Now Mary felt actually lost.

 

“My parents insisted on inviting you and John along with Sherlock and I guess neither of us will be able to avoid this obligation.”

 

“They have no idea, do they?” She wasn’t all that surprised that it was Mycroft who actually delivered the invitation offhandedly. It was a very Holmesian way of dealing with things.

 

“Naturally. So we will all play along and pretend to be perfectly normal people with nary a conflict between them.”

 

“Will Greg come?” Mary tried for at least some form of polite conversation.

 

“He has to work. Sadly I wasn’t able to arrange for a similarly convenient schedule. Goodbye, Mary.”

 

“Goodbye.”


	11. Cautiously optimistic

The next time they met on their own it was almost two weeks since the airport. Mary actually seeked him out, sending him a text to meet at a bistro close enough to his office that no one would notice when he had his lunch there.

 

“Hello, Mary.”

 

She studied him, relieved to see that he didn’t look as worn and exhausted as he had at the airport. This was probably to be credited to Greg. She smiled widely. “Hi, Mycroft.”

 

The pregnancy obviously agreed with Mary. With John back at home she practically glowed, despite the fact that by now she would feel the physical changes and limitations coming with her state. Still there were certain social niceties to be observed.

 

“How are you?”

 

She laughed. The question was as superfluous as anything. If there was one person besides Sherlock who would be able to tell her emotional and physical state by a mere glance, it was Mycroft Holmes after all.

 

“I’m fine - thanks for asking. Sherlock is doing pretty well, too.”

 

“Is he?”  Any thoughts of etiquette were forgotten when she started right with the information he so desperately wanted.

 

“The withdrawal wasn’t worse than to be expected - nothing John and I couldn’t handle. He’s mostly come down from the worst of the euphoria that came afterwards too. It’s so good as of now that we’re both moving back home for now. I mean we check in on him daily but he doesn’t need constant supervision.”

 

Seeing the raised eyebrow, she shook her head. “He really doesn’t, you know. The Moriarty secret keeps his mind engaged, he’s really looking forward to the challenge of incorporating a baby into his life somehow - no matter how peripherally, and I think he actually enjoys life more now that he’s once again escaped certain death by a hair’s breadth.”

 

“I can only trust your judgement at this point.”

 

“Ah you know how he gets, I think he wants to punish you for not getting him out of trouble sooner? I’m sure he’ll start speaking to you again in no time”

 

“He can be quite irrational but I’m cautiously optimistic we’ll sort this out eventually. Now what is the reason why you wanted to meet?”

 

Of course just being a friend to both Holmeses wasn’t a reason to disturb his schedule to Mycroft. Mary inwardly rolled her eyes and put a stick on the table.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Remember the MI5 security? This is what I used and a few other loopholes you might want to know about. I always thought they might come in useful but I think in the grand scheme of things it’s more important that you know about these weaknesses and can close the holes that it is for me to be able to exploit them.”

 

“That’s an unexpected boon. It will indeed come in very handy.”

 

Mary’s face grew somber. “I still owe you, Mycroft.”

 

Mycroft contemplated his next words carefully. It took him several moments to reach a decision. “We might call that specific ledger even IF you come clean.”

 

“Clean?”

 

“Sherlock obviously knows, as does John. There are other people I feel should know who and what you are. You would take away most of my leverage by simply taking them into confidence. These people exist in such close proximity to you that this secret could potentially endanger them at some point.”

 

Mary thought about Mrs. Hudson, Molly, and of course Greg. Mycroft had no qualms with secrets in general, certainly not with calculated risks, and he didn’t care too much for either Molly or Mrs. Hudson.

 

“I’m not sure how much I should tell Molly and I certainly won’t tell your parents.”

 

Mycroft’s shudder clearly implied that he abhorred the thought as much as she did.

 

“But you are right; I should tell Mrs. Hudson. And John and I will tell Greg as soon as possible. And you’d really consider us even then?”

 

“I’m feeling generous but if you continue rubbing it in, I might change my mind.”

 

Mary ‘zipped’ her mouth shut. A gesture which Mycroft found incredibly childish and inappropriate. He got up and took the stick.

 

“I should get this to the right divisions as soon as possible. Good day, Mary.”

 

“Good day to you too, Mycroft.”


	12. Intermezzo

Over the next couple of months Mary and Mycroft met time and again mostly because Gregory and John were mates, or because Sherlock was in some sort of shenanigans that dragged both of them in. They didn’t often meet on their own. Mycroft knew that Mary wouldn’t become an asset he might use again until little Rosamund was much older. It had nothing to do with sentiment as he would gladly tell anyone asking but all with practicality.

 

They still exchanged a smile or an eyeroll between them on things no one but them caught. Once Gregory saw one of those he actually encouraged it. He had several friends and many ‘mates’ he regularly spent time with and he always worried that Mycroft had no one outside of work and family. 

 

Which was completely ridiculous of course because Mycroft was more than happy with the respect of his peers and Gregory’s love. 

 

He didn’t need friends. And Mary née Rosamund certainly wasn’t one.

 

But Mary was someone whose company he not only tolerated because of the circumstances but actually enjoyed from time to time. It was a nice change from his usual routine - an intelligent person whom he could mostly trust to have the same interests and goals.

 

So when he and Gregory married they might not have invited John and Mary but Mycroft made sure that a piece of the wedding cake was delivered to the Watson residence with a note.

 

When Mary turned up on their doorstep because she needed a babysitter NOW because someone needed to come to the rescue of John and Sherlock who had gotten themselves into trouble once again, Mycroft didn’t send her away but assured her little Rosamund was in capable hands until she and Gregory returned from their rescue mission.

 

When Mary turned up shortly before Christmas to force him to participate in baking, he actually let her get away with it. And when she and John were invited to the family Christmas celebrations he was only mildly annoyed.

 

But then of course her past came back to catch up with her.

  
It always happened sooner or later.


	13. The inevitable end

When Sherlock came to him to ask about A.G.R.A. Mycroft at first played a bit slow. He was miffed because his little brother had once again acted as if he didn’t need him for weeks, never came to him for anything except at the last minute. He loved his brother dearly but he’d grown cocky to a degree that was dangerous to himself and those around him.

 

He would have told him about A.G.R.A. earlier if he had but asked. But now Mycroft knew with a certainty that broke his heart that Mary’s time was up.

 

It was only a question of how many months they could cheat the universe out of this time.

 

He used the opportunity to remind Sherlock that his help wasn’t free - couldn’t be. It had more to do with the favours he himself had to call in on his brother’s behalf of course. When push came to shove he was as much a victim of sentiment as Sherlock and he would never leave his brother without help.

 

He did his best helping Sherlock and John in their hunt for Mary - providing them with the technology to follow her in the first place. And when Sherlock phoned him about ‘AMMO’ he thought that for once his brother might have provided him with more advantages than he called in favours.

 

Moving against ‘Love’ - Lady Elizabeth - one of the few actual peers he had - was difficult. But if Sherlock was right then acting quickly was of the utmost importance. He had trusted Lady Smallwood. Of course he could be mistaken - no one was perfect and she was a formidable woman in so many regards that it was possible.

 

He was relieved to find out his brother was mistaken in this case though. And he was thankful to know that Lady Elizabeth Smallwood was intelligent enough to know that he had acted rationally. She would have done the same things if their roles had been reversed.

 

After finding out the truth Mycroft knew he had to bring backup for his brother, whether he wanted it or not. When he got to the aquarium, Gregory and several policemen at his side, he wasn’t impressed.

 

Apparently Mrs. Norbury had a flair for dramatic showdowns as wide as Sherlock’s. Watching his brother, Mycroft rolls his eyes inwardly. Sherlock could never resist showing off.

 

And now it was the final straw that broke Vivian Norbury’s sanity.

 

Mycroft recognised Mary’s movement before he saw the reason behind it. She was already in the air to jump in front of Sherlock as the secretary’s finger pulled the trigger.

 

Mary’s timing was perfect as she caught the bullet intended for her young, brilliant friend - Mycroft’s brother - Sherlock.

 

He could see immediately that even her husband wouldn’t be able to save her. The bullet went through more than one vital organ and the shock alone would be enough to kill her, not to speak of the blood loss.

 

When Sherlock ordered him to call for an ambulance, Mycroft took a few steps to make the call from outside. Gregory already had his radio out and was calling the shot in. But a phone call from him would ensure that the ambulance would have a faster path, the highest priority. Not that it would make any difference.

 

Mary was dead whether he was there to witness her last breaths or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodbye, dear readers (until the next time) and farewell, Mary. I for one will miss you.


End file.
